


Happy Holidays Fics 2015

by TriplePirouette



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mini fics, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 05:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5485928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriplePirouette/pseuds/TriplePirouette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My followers on Tumblr promted me short fics/drabbles from 12/15/15-1/4/16. Each chapter is it's own fic responding to a prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Refraction" for Valoscope

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who sent in a prompt!

Title: Refraction

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Spoilers: Season 1 OUAT finale

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Word Count: about 740

Distribution: AO3. Anyone else please ask first :)

 

Summary: “refracted light” prompted by Valoscope, Season 1 Rumbelle

 

 

Feedback PLEASE at:[triplepirouettephile@hotmail.com](mailto:triplepirouettephile@hotmail.com) Or just hit the little button there.

 

AN: Val was the first one to take advantage of my drabble/short fic offer! Here you go darling, thank you for harkening back to happier days!

 

~*~

 

The sun filtered through the trees of the forest in a way she felt she should have remembered. It tickled at the back of her brain, just like the way she thought she should remember the man she was following, but she could remember neither. Mr. Gold, the man she was told would protect her, didn’t seem very concerned, so she tried not to think too hard on it. That had been all she’d been able to do for so very long: think. Instead, she took another deep breath and tried to take in every precious second of being _outside._

 

The light in her cell had been different. It had been reflected over and over again down a small metal shaft. At first glance it had looked like day light, sometimes she could pretend it was daylight, but there was no denying it was just the remnants of the sun bounced back to her through those metal bars and refracted through dirty glass.

 

In her dreams she remembered stained glass windows that casted millions of colors across marble floors as the sun set. She remembered clear banks of glass that she’d read by, book upon book illuminated in her lap by the warm rays of the sun. She recalled heavy drapes that made her sneeze and wouldn’t move, wouldn’t let in the light. When she woke up, all that was there was that small hole in the wall, and it made her yearn for things she couldn’t recall properly when she was awake.

 

When she woke she spent some time every day staring through that dirty glass, hoping against hope that she’s see something new, something fresh, that wasn’t a reflection. Sometimes it was a squirrel or a bird that came to visit, more often than not her friends were spiders who spun webs for a day or two, realized that they’d never catch anything in her barren cell, then moved on, leaving behind their silken homes that withered with dust.

 

Out here, though, it was different. The sun didn’t have to bounce off of metal to get to her; she didn’t taste the metallic sting of recycled air that was too dry, too stale in her mouth. Out here, in the forest, the sun beat down on her, warm even though the air around her was cool. The air, filled with the scent of the wood and plants and life, tickled her nose with how easy it was to breathe in and out. For the first time in a forever she couldn’t even try to count, she felt alive.

 

And then the light changed.

 

Somehow it got brighter. Somehow the greens were greener and the trees were taller and the entire forest around her was alive with noise and life under each fluttering leaf. And the way that the light bounced off of the handle of Rumplestiltskin’s cane…

 

…Rumplestiltskin.

 

It was there. It was all there. In that one second those odd tickles had gone from irritation to full blown memory. It made her dizzy how simple it was. It was all there, right within her reach. Every memory was recalled crisp and clean if she just reached for it.

 

“Wait!” She called out, eyes drinking in how very similar, yet so very different, he looked in his suit.

 

He kept walking, the same stubborn man she remembered, but so very much more man than she could ever recall him being. “No, no. We’re very close.”

 

“Rumplestiltskin, wait.” She knew using his name, the one the man who had broken her out of that cell hadn’t told her, would let him know right away. He froze, and she couldn’t wait anymore. She marched across the soft earth as he began to turn, waiting to see his face for the first time in light that was no longer refracted from metal or a curse, but to see him in the sun, on her own, with every memory she had of him making her heart beat faster.

 

“I- I remember,” she stuttered out, looking into eyes that hadn’t been as human the last time she’d seen them, hadn’t been as full of pain or sorrow or surprise. “I love you.” She laughed it out, the words having bubbled from deep inside her with no second thoughts or apprehension. She’d spent so much time wishing she’d said them, she’d never feel that regret again.

 

When he pulled her close, somehow the world brightened around her again. The sunlight glittering around them, the universe singing in her ears, it was a reality she’d only ever dreamed. Never again would she have to see the sun reflected off an old metal pipe and through a dirty window. Of that, she was sure.

 

 


	2. "But When I See You" for lotus0kid

Title: But When I See You  
By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette  
Spoilers: Season 2 around the “Hamburger Date” time  
Disclaimer: They're not mine.  
Word Count: about 700  
Distribution: AO3. Anyone else please ask first :) 

Summary: lotus0kid prompted: Rumbelle, Hugh Laurie's "The Sophisticated Song" 

Feedback PLEASE at:triplepirouettephile@hotmail.com Or just hit the little button there.

AN: Oh my gosh, I had never heard this song before, it’s wonderful! Absolutely Gold without a doubt. Hope you like my rambling, darling. Thank you for the prompt! 

~*~

Rumplestiltskin had worked for centuries on how he talked, walked, and acted. He’d played with the intonation of his voice and developed eccentricities, all for the sole purpose of showmanship. 

With the darkness he could be a man he’d never been able to be on his own: a revered man, a respected man, even if he was also feared. 

Then he made the worst, or best, deal he ever had. Belle was suddenly around, and all those affectations, all those defense mechanisms, all those little turns of phrase that he’d so cleverly come up with were useless. After a few days, she found the idle threats meaningless. After she learned he couldn’t stand to see her cry, she began to smile at him. Once she learned he had absolutely no idea how to interact meaningfully with another adult (it had been nearly three hundred years since he’d spent more than a few minutes at a time with one) she laughed at him. 

It was frustrating. It was maddening. It was adorable.

Her charm had chipped away at that old façade that he’d built around himself, softening him when it was just the two of them. And yet, he couldn’t quite figure out how to proceed. She was technically his property. She was also a beautiful, strong willed woman who paid him a lot of attention when she could have hid from him. 

Some days he avoided her in the great castle just so he didn’t seem like a bumbling fool. 

That was what he wanted to do now: avoid her. But today was the day he couldn’t. 

Today, they finally got their date. 

This world’s concept of dating fascinated and scared him. Courting and bargaining were much more straightforward. Six goats for your daughter’s hand in marriage, please. You’d like seven? Oh, how about six, and a donkey? Good? Good. Done. 

But no, now he had to romance her, find a way to make her fall in love with him all over again. At least in that drafty castle he had magic to pamper her with, he could show a softer side, they were isolated from the world around them. Here, they were wide open to all those around them. He was hated. He knew it. The inhabitants of Storybrooke didn’t like him any more than he liked them. They loved to blame everything on him and he’d allowed it for generations, so it was easy for them to do without a second thought. He was the source of all the evil, and they should hate him. 

Not a very conducive environment for making a woman fall in love him. 

Gold straightened his cuff links and looked over himself in the mirror again. His hair was light and airy, with a happy bounce to it as he moved. His suit was well cut and fit him like a glove. His jewelry was understated, but expensive to the well-trained eye. Perhaps there were a few more wrinkles than he’d like around his eyes, but he didn’t feel like maintaining a glamour all evening. 

No, he was a striking figure. He’d made men in this town quiver in fear, women look at him questioningly, and had cut the figure of imposing businessman in a way that had always made him feel strong and powerful, even with his limp. 

But today he wanted to hide. He was sure he’d mess it up. He’d squirt ketchup on his tie, or squish all of the pickles out of his burger. He’d knock her iced tea into her lap, or accidently get the spicy burger that made him sneeze uncontrollably. 

For all the power he felt so very often, around Belle he felt like that fumbling, dirty spinner he once was, and he could never seem to get himself under control. Perhaps it was because deep down he was always, and would always be, that man. 

Gold straightened his tie one more time and took a deep breath. It would be fine. It would all be fine. 

Even if he didn’t notice the small trail of toilet paper running from the heel of his shoe as he walked out of his shop.   
 


	3. "Sugar, Butter, Flour" for woodelf68

Title: Sugar, Butter, Flour  
By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette  
Spoilers: none- general Rumbelle Fluff when they were happy  
Disclaimer: They're not mine.  
Word Count: 763  
Distribution: AO3. Anyone else please ask first :) 

Summary: woodelf68 prompted: Prompt! Rumbelle xmas cookie making! With Rum snitching bits of dough and being more nuisance than help. And amusing himself by magicking up some unusually shaped cookie cutter. And getting serious at the decorating stage and refusing to be rushed. (Not your usual bittersweet specialty, but my brain is made of fluff.) 

Feedback PLEASE at:triplepirouettephile@hotmail.com Or just hit the little button there.

AN: Well, it’s pretty fluffy… Title taken from my current obsession, the new Sara Bareilles songs from Waitress, The Musical. 

~*~

He had a bit of flour on the end of his nose. 

It had been there for an hour. 

She really, really wanted to brush it off. She also really, really wanted it to stay there because of how cute it made him. She didn’t often think of Rum as cute, but he was. There was a cute, adorable, fantastic man in there who only came out at times like these, when they were alone and working on something together. 

Today’s project: cookies. 

She hadn’t celebrated Christmas in the Enchanted Forrest, there was no Christianity to celebrate. But in this world she did, or at least most everyone had memories of this religion and celebrating it, and she’d happily thrown herself into the festive holiday. 

She wasn’t sure about the spicy smelling fruit cake that Granny was selling all month, or the thick egg nog that she could get at the ice cream shop that Rum seemed to love so much, but Belle knew cookies. As a child she’d spent hours hiding in the kitchen, helping the cook to cut out hearts and stars and ponies that looked like little blobs when they finally came out of the oven. There wasn’t much to decorate them with back then, some sugar and jam if she was really creative, but her Papa had always been happy to indulge if she presented him with a cookie. 

Rumplestiltskin had insisted they do it “right,” though, and when she said she’d make a small batch of shortbreads he’d spread purple smoke across the kitchen and produced enough supplies to make six dozen intricately decorated sugar cookies.

She’d laughed and relented with a smile. Any time he planned on spending time with her it was an easy decision. So they’d mixed and measured, pre-heated and poured, for the last couple of hours until they had every counter filled with rolled out dough. 

“Now, the fun part,” he’d declared, presenting her with a handful of cookie cutters from thin air. Belle had taken them with a giggle and heartily attacked the counter full of dough. One square foot of angels. One square foot of stockings. One square foot of reindeer. She looked over and found him slowly and methodically using his own handful of cookie cutters. 

“Which have you got?” She asked lightly, looking over his shoulder.

“Less traditional ones,” he murmured, intent on the process. He had two: a chipped cup (that she was sure he’d made up all on his own) and a book. He was aligning them tightly, making as many as he could. 

Belle kissed his cheek and had gone back to pressing out trees. 

And now they were done, the extra dough had been pulled away, re-rolled and pressed again until they only had little bits that Rum kept picking at to chew on. Belle had taken to the cookies with the bright colored sugars and nonpareils, happily humming away and decorating with a light hand as Rum had toiled heavily over each cookie. 

Now, she’d finished nearly three dozen, had already gotten them in and out of the oven, and was munching on a particularly delicious snowflake cookie as Rum was still crouched over the counter, flour on his nose, and decorating. 

“How’s it going?” She asked, leaning against the counter. 

“Shhh!” He waved his hand, never taking his eyes from the chipped cup he was drizzling blue sugar on. “Not done.”

Belle leaned over, watching as he delicately drizzled the blue crystals in the pattern so familiar to her, the very pattern on the cup in the cabinet, with the same care and careful touch that he used to spin with. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, you know.”

“Oh yes it does,” he murmured, never stopping. 

“Then why not use magic for it?” She asked, standing back up and taking another bite of her cookie. 

He looked up at her then, eyes sparkling. “Where’s the fun in that?” 

She finally gave in, brushing the flour from the tip of his nose. “I suppose you’re right.” She kissed his check softly. “I’ll start putting the others away so those have a place to cool when they’re out of the oven.”

“Yes, yes…” he mumbled as he turned back to the cookies. 

She wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, that had gotten into him, but she liked it. Working quietly together was one of her favorite little pleasures, and this was shaping up to be one of her favorite traditions. Even if they wouldn’t be done until two in the morning at this rate.   
 


	4. "Overheard" for omgkimwtf

Title: Overheard  
By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette  
Spoilers: general OUAT/semi-AU  
Disclaimer: They're not mine.  
Word Count: about 1560  
Distribution: AO3. Anyone else please ask first :) 

Summary: omgkimwtf prompted: Prompt from a weird conversation last night: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring bee nipples into this conversation" Rumbelle

 

Feedback PLEASE at:triplepirouettephile@hotmail.com Or just hit the little button there.

AN: Bee nipples. Go. Hopefully this comes across as silly and fun as I want it to… humor was never a strong point of mine. 

~*~

He called it The Conclave. From his office in the back of his great pink house he could hear them. Once a month they congregated here. Partly because he’d volunteered it, mostly because Belle was sure that out here, in his house, they were least likely to be bothered. 

The Conclave: his beautiful Belle, Aurora, Cinderella, and sometimes Ariel if she was in town. 

They’d sit, drink some tea, and chit chat about all the things they felt a little too self-conscious to talk about when Emma or Snow White were around. Mary Margaret had been a great friend to them (they always started their little gossip group saying that) but there were just some things she’d never understand. 

He laughed at it every time. Royals. Born or made, there was something different about them. Even Cinderella, who had spent her life cleaning up after her stepmother, had become so accustomed to her royal life that she’d rarely asked questions about anything. 

Now, their new world was overwhelming to them with the curse broken and the three (sometimes four) women felt comfortable letting go in the small back room of his home, a place mysterious to so many others in Storybrooke. 

“But I just don’t understand how they work!” Belle whispered, full of frustration. 

He shook his head and went back to the books, cataloging some of the new items that had come into the shop in the last month. 

“I just know you have to put the coins in them or Emma gives you a ticket,” Aurora replied seriously. “I don’t know how they work, either.”

Gold silently moved from describing a golden chalice in the inventory to scribbling ‘parking meters’ on the small pad he kept by his side during such occasions. For some reason she only felt comfortable with her friends discussing the things she didn’t understand. She rarely asked him, but if he brought a subject up and just started talking about how something worked she’d pick his brain until she knew everything about anything they discussed. 

“But those aren’t even the worst… how do those little pieces of plastic in my wallet know how much gold my family has?” Cinderella was perplexed. She always asked either the most brilliant questions or the silliest. Gold would swear to Belle he only hung around the house on the days when the girls came over to keep them safe in case anyone ever came by, but he’d never admit he loved overhearing the conversations. 

“Oh!” Belle jumped into the conversation with excitement. “Rum explained this to me once. It’s not the card- the card just holds your name on that little black strip. When you use the card at the store it talks to a computer, then the computer talks to the bank, and that’s how they know how much gold you have.”

Credit Cards, Gold mused, smiling a bit. He understood Belle and Aurora and Ariel’s confusion. Belle hadn’t been given memories during the curse and Aurora and Ariel hadn’t even been here for it. But Cinderella? He couldn’t fathom what she’d been doing that she didn’t understand these things. She’d had a life in Storybrooke. Memories. She should be able to figure out most of it, at least. 

“Ohhh, that makes sense,” she crooned. Sipping some more tea. 

Aurora chimed in next, “But grocery stores…”

All three women sighed and Gold just dropped his head into his hands. 

“I wish we would have had those back in the forest,” Cinderella mused heavily. 

Belle was next. “But I never understand how it’s set up. I end up walking around for hours trying to find everything.”

“And then the ice cream’s melted because they have that right up front so I always get it first!” A chorus of approval met Aurora’s lament. Gold was amazed at how something as simple as ice cream, which hadn’t been something that even existed for them in the other land, enchanted them all here. 

He also didn’t understand how none of them had figured out that if the ice cream was by the entrance that meant it was also by the exit so that it could be picked up right before going to pay for the groceries. He marked down ‘how to supermarket’ on his pad, shook his head at the horrible grammar, and then turned back to his ledger. 

He must have missed part of the conversation, or they had lowered their voices for a bit, because the next thing he heard was Aurora’s voice ringing out, mortified. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring bee nipples into this conversation!”

Gold placed his pen down, folded his hands under his chin, and tilted his head so he could listen better. 

“What do you mean?” Belle asked. 

Aurora stumbled over her words. “Well, I asked where you get honey… but I know where you get honey, I just haven’t figured out how.”

“Yeah, no, sweetie, we’re still lost,” Cinderella said gently. “Honey comes from bees. They make it in their honeycombs.”

“I don’t-“ Belle stopped her sentence, completely perplexed for a moment. “I don’t even know if bees have nipples.” Gold could hear in her tone that her face was screwed up in confusion. The light clack of her heels meant she’d probably gotten up to pull out one of the many books on the shelves. 

“Well, I mean, of course they do!” Aurora tripped over the words again. “Cows, goats… women” she added the last one shyly. “That’s where the babies get all their nourishment. What… what else would they do?”

“But-“ Cinderella sounded perplexed as well. This was shaping up to be quite the conversation. “But I don’t think insects have nipples.”

A book slammed shut. “This book does not confirm or deny the existence of insect, or bee, nipples.”

“It’s alright,” Aurora begged. “Really, I just- I don’t eat honey anyway, so…”

Cinderella stood up; he could hear her rustling into her coat. “Nope, too late.”

“We need to know,” Belle added. 

“We’re going to the library?” Aurora asked with a defeated whimper. 

“To the library!” Belle happily announced from somewhere closer to Gold. 

He rushed as he heard her heels click down the hall, picking up his pen again and hiding the little notepad under the ledger. 

“Rumple?” Belle asked, sticking her head into his office. 

“Yes?” he asked, not looking up and pretending desperately to be busy. 

“We’re going to the library. Just a little… fact finding to do.” 

Rumple looked up, trying to keep a smile off his face. “Oh? Anything I might be able to help with?” 

Belle bit her lip, he could see her trying to decide if she should ask him, but royal discretion won out and she just smiled. “No, it’ll be more fun to look it up, anyway.”   
He was almost positive he didn’t imagine the groan he heard from the front hall at her words. 

“All right then,” Rumple gave her a little half smile. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Ok,” Belle disappeared from the doorway, then poked her head back in again. “Don’t worry about the mess in the drawing room, I’ll clean it when I get back.”

He tried not to laugh at her adorableness. “Alright.”

She disappeared again, but only for a second before peaking back in again. “Rumple?”

“He looked up again, his hands crossed over the ledger. “Yes Belle?”

She smiled. “I love you.”

His brows knit for just a second, she didn’t normally say it when other people were around, but it was easy to reply in kind. “I love you, too. I’ll see you when you get back.”

She gave him a bright smile before disappearing again. He picked up his pen but didn’t put it to paper quite yet. 

“I could hear everything you said, Belle,” Aurora fretted. “You said he couldn’t hear us!”

Belle sighed. “He’s inside the office, I was still in the hallway. Very different. I promise he didn’t hear anything.” 

“If the Dark One heard me talking about bee nipples… heavens!” She sighed as she walked out of the house, muttering. 

Belle just jingled the keys, fitting them in the lock before she stepped out. “Aurora, I promise you, bee nipples is the least interesting thing the Dark One may or may not have heard about. Now get in the car.”

The door shut and the lock slid into place, echoing through the now silent house.   
He was able to hold it in until he heard the car pull from the driveway. The laughter came in waves. As soon as he thought he was done laughing, he’d start up all over again. When he finally caught his breath, his face and cheeks aching, he waved his hand in a small circle before picking up his pen again. 

In the small curio cabinet in the drawing room was now a small porcelain bee wearing a bright pink bra. He didn’t know how long it would take her to find it, but sometimes, that was the fun of it. 

He shifted the ledger to the side until he could see the pad again. Under his other notes he scribbled ‘get a bee hive, teach Belle how to make honey.’

As an after thought he wrote one more little line. 

‘Make sure Aurora gets the first jar.’


End file.
